Over the Threshold
by plaidshirtjimkirk
Summary: Sano tries to conceal his anxiety about an unexpected train trip and Saito supports him like a good Meiji husband. [Established Saito/Sano]


I was watching the legendary train filler episode from s1 a few weeks ago, and then this happened~

* * *

 **.*Over the Threshold*.**

This was _entirely_ Saito's fault.

Because he was attractive. And Sano liked his company. And Saito had been the one to make the suggestion. And Sano couldn't decline when the very handsome man he enjoyed being with invited him somewhere.

…It's just that he assumed they'd be getting there via carriage.

Fighting the urge to pace, Sano exhaled a visible breath into the biting chill of an early November morning and shoved his free hand into a deep coat pocket. The other tightened on the strap that sealed a burlap sack of mutual belongings tossed over his shoulder, as he attempted, without success, to distract his thoughts.

'Think of something,' he demanded of himself. 'Imagine you're _anywhere_ but standing on a platform waiting for the damn _train_.'

The more Sano tried, the more fixated he became on this undesirable situation, and his feet began absent-mindedly shuffling about again.

Deep down, he recognized that he was being somewhat ridiculous; he'd survived the first round trip when Kaoru took them all to Yokohama, and also that time they'd hopped another ride from Kyoto to Osaka. But Sano had spent so long being suspicious of this method of transportation that he doubted he would never not feel uneasy.

Using logic, there was comfort to be had in acknowledging he remained intact during those three trips and that this one, in theory, should end no differently. However, navigating through the facts was little help when one's intuition was set to argue every step of the way. Emotionalism was just part of Sano's identity. He relied more on feeling and instinct than rationale, and when his gut told him something was wrong, it was hard to think otherwise—especially when it came to the whole bizarre concept of a steam-powered engine.

He'd gone so far as to make a conscious effort to understand the science behind it. Fire and coal created heat and then there was water… _somewhere_ , which produced steam. As in, the same kind of steam created when boiling a kettle or soaking in a hot bath…and that was apparently how an unimaginable mass of kilograms moved at an incomprehensible speed.

Staring vacantly at the tracks, Sano's lips curled in as his eyes widened and his brows knitted downward. How could _anyone_ with a lick of sense believe that?!

No, there _had_ to be more to the picture—like supernatural power, or…or something so complicated it had no business being in human hands. Yet, here he was again, about to risk it all and walk over the dangerous thresholds of superstition and frivolous knowledge, acting like it didn't bother him when it did.

Sano hadn't exactly believed the old folktales about foxes and tanuki, but they still made chills run down his spine. He had a clear memory of the first time he'd heard stories about these creatures wreaking chaos in the mortal world. Katsu was huddled close to him before a campfire one night while they listened wide-eyed and intently as Captain Sagara told them of a disturbing account.

Apparently, a man from a rural village had stepped out for a walk, went missing, and woke up naked in the middle of the nearest city hours later with no recollection of the time in between. The captain said that he'd trespassed on tanuki territory in the woods and was consequently possessed as retribution—so Sano and Katsu should be _very_ careful about wandering off into places they didn't know well.

It was just a stupid ghost story, but it'd stuck with Sano and made him all the more careful when dealing with things he didn't understand. Like a train running on steam.

Sano shivered and raised his shoulders, not entirely from the cold. Though he didn't think them real, the whole idea of possession and shapeshifters spooked him, and it was too easy for an overactive imagination to run with those ideas and explain the unexplainable.

Despite that, he accepted the more reasonable notion that there _was_ a worldly force behind the train moving so fast; however, that didn't mean he was willing to agree it was something humans should meddle with. Traveling this way put him in a situation where he felt he had no control over his fate, and he couldn't help thinking of all the things that might go wrong.

Barring the whole " _how the fuck does it move?_ " conundrum, Sano had other concerns. How did the train even stay on the tracks at that speed, or switch to other paths when necessary? What would happen if they derailed? …What if they derailed on a _bridge_? Could he trust the crew to do their jobs on this lightning fast hunk of metal and ensure they arrived safely? What if the cars detached for some reason and they became stranded…or he stepped outside to look around and fell over the railing? What if—

"Is there a reason why you're fidgeting like that?"

Sano's eyes widened and he raised his chin, peering up to see Saito's face half-turned in his direction. A thick report was open in his gloved hands, and he'd been reading it—or so Sano thought. It was alarming to find attention on himself instead.

A tense chuckle left Sano while he relaxed his spine. Like _hell_ would he let Saito know his nerves were raw over this trip. Kaoru telling him he was absurd and seeing even Yahiko—someone half his age—annoyed by his jitters had been enough to buy his silence forever.

Sano wasn't about to expose such weakness ever again, just to have it thrown in his face…and _especially_ not to the former captain of the third Shinsengumi unit, of all people. Whether they were together or not didn't matter. Saito had lived through _real_ things during the war that were still worth being troubled by in the present, and Sano admitting he had some kind of unfounded anxiety over a train ride seemed laughable by comparison.

"It's cold as fuck this morning, aren't you cold?" Sano's brows pulled in, leaving no opportunity for the question to be answered. "Hey…" He scuffled toward the edge of the platform and stuck his head out, continuing to ramble on. "Where _is_ this _train_? I can't _wait_ for it to get here so we can…"

A hard yank had him stumbling back in place at Saito's side with lips hovering close to his ear. Sano flinched, shutting the nearest eye. "First of all, you moron." The words grated through Saito's teeth but they were quiet enough to not attract interest from other passengers waiting nearby. "You don't ever put your head over the tracks. Second, you were looking in the wrong direction."

"Oh. Yeah…"

"Third." Releasing his grasp on Sano and returning to the report, Saito flipped to the next page. "It'll pull up to the platform in two minutes or so."

Opening his mouth, Sano imitated the action of replying ' _ah_ …' without making a sound and nodded twice, then averted his eyes with slumping shoulders. If only he'd known this had been part of the plan…he could have started the day with some good medicine of the alcoholic kind to help him remain not only calm but warm.

That wasn't to say Saito hadn't looked out for him; he'd outfitted Sano in a spare heavy coat with matching boots and a scarf. Hell, he'd even thrown thick gloves into the mix and Sano had never felt so warm on a winter morning when they left the house. But the cold air still pricked at his exposed skin, like the apprehension that had been eroding his nerves little-by-little. At first, the impact was negligible but over time, it became more and more apparent and therefore exponentially uncomfortable by now.

With blushed cheeks stinging from the chill, Sano sunk a bit further into the scarf and closed his eyes, inwardly groaning at the travesty his mind had created. This whole trip had started out innocent enough last week, and he'd been excited about it as the days passed. Of course, nothing sounded better than nestling next to Saito in the back of a carriage, or lying across his lap while he reviewed another novel-length report.

That's what Sano had assumed he'd be getting anyway when the unexpected invitation came, and he turned his thoughts to the simple pleasures of simpler times, when everything in the world was right…

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Chopsticks were moving so fast they were blurry as Sano shoveled rice into his mouth at an inhuman pace. It couldn't be helped; one of Saito's many inconspicuous talents was cooking, and while Sano had chopped the vegetables, he left the actual combining of ingredients to those hands so delightfully experienced with all the right things.

Those hands, _indeed_. When given control and allowed to display their areas of expertise, they never disappointed. And perhaps, after dinner and a bath, Saito would be willing to lend Sano a few more of those stellar capabilities he possessed.

The prospect was titillating, but definitely a thought best left to later; as for the present, Sano was too caught up with enjoying every moment of ecstasy to be had while destroying his meal. His lashes had fallen in euphoria, his brows raised just a bit at the inner ends. That was when Saito spoke up from across the table.

"I'll be going to Yokohama next week for three days."

"Hnn?" The reply was distorted by cheeks stuffed with rice as Sano's eyes opened.

Saito sat with the day's paper unfolded before him and a half-smoked cigarette in his right hand. He didn't bother looking up as he nonchalantly inquired, "Are you interested in coming along?"

Swallowing in one massive gulp, Sano slammed the bowl down to the table with a boisterous clang. "Wait, really?!"

"I asked, didn't I…?" Saito cocked his head and turned the page over.

"Hell yeah, I'll go!" As if Saito had to even inquire! What, after all, could be better than spending a few hours alone in a carriage shrouded by curtains? Maybe Saito would even make Cho drive the horses. Unlikely as it was, the image made Sano laugh and he added, "You know I'm always down for going somewhere with you."

"Yes, I'm aware." Still without pulling away from the news, Saito lifted his brows for a moment, repeating beneath his breath, "That's why I suggested."

"Right, right! Because it _totally_ has nothing to do with you missing me when you're away, yeah?"

Golden eyes finally flicked up to meet Sano's.

"I'm right, aren't I?" The corners of Sano's lips pulled out into his cheeks and he squinted as he leaned in over the table.

Saito's mouth parted, baring a flash of clenched teeth as he jerked his head to the side. "Stop talking nonsense and go take your seconds." Giving the paper a good shake, he flicked the ashes from his cigarette off into a tray and resumed reading.

"Thought so." With a chuckle, Sano stood and sauntered over to the cooking area with his bowl. Even if Saito refused to admit it out loud, that reaction was all he needed to know his company was appreciated. A simple "no" would have sufficed, but the effort put into appearing annoyed by the suggestion was more telling; Saito enjoyed keeping him around.

It wasn't like Sano really _required_ the extra validation, though. He couldn't even recall the last time he spent a night in his row house after he'd begun staying with Saito, but it was still magnificent to feel so desired by the same person who he always longed to be near.

Humming loudly to give voice to his delight, Sano finished scooping another generous helping into his bowl and covered the pot. He ignored Saito chiding him for being needlessly noisy and when he planted himself back down on the zabuton cushion, Sano decided he'd make the trip very worthwhile for them both.

 _Just you and me with the curtains drawn…and Cho driving the horses._

"Dare I ask what you're smiling about over there?"

"It's probably best that you don't," Sano sang in reply and commenced scarfing down round two.

"Cht." Saito turned the page. "Aho."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

It'd been such a beautiful fantasy…Sano's eyes were half-lidded, recalling the way his profound expectations had made him feel that evening. What a contrast to now, as he stood regretfully watching the train crawl to a halt before them and wondering how everything had ended up like this.

It would have been so enjoyable…no questionable advances of the new world, no cringe-inducing shrill of metal grating against metal, no crowd creating cacophony around them and stealing their privacy. They could have had it all…

The report, curled into a thick half-fold, whacked Sano gently on the head and with a start, he straightened his back and snapped his attention to Saito. A hand came up to rub his scalp, despite there being no pain. "Hey!"

"What nonsense is running through that head of yours this morning?"

" _Nothing_." Sano knew his response came too fast and with too much emotion, so he quickly added, "I'm not thinking about anything."

Saito's features were blank. "That's no surprise."

"Oh, fuck you. I'm tired. And it's cold." Sano blinked, clambering for the right thing to say next, which somehow ended in him reiterating, "Tired and cold. You know." He swallowed as the awkwardness of his words consumed him and tore his eyes away for a moment. They raised again to find a familiar expression on Saito's face—the dreaded one he wore while analyzing something or someone, and Sano was painfully aware that his ridiculous reply was the subject of such scrutiny.

There was nothing like unintentionally drawing interest to the one thing he wanted to avoid...

Like clockwork, Saito's lips parted. However, just as they did, a miracle presented itself in the form of a loud whistle blowing. The platform consequently sprung to life with palpable excitement, leaving the atmosphere charged with positive energy while passengers converged to board. Thanks be to tanuki and technology: the source of all Sano's problems this morning and now, oddly enough, his saviors.

"Guess we should go, then." Sano turned on his boots but a hand caught his elbow. He tried to neglect it and press forward but Saito's grip was strong enough to hinder the effort. Small as it was, Sano's sigh was visible in the cold and he turned his face only partially over a drooping shoulder, waiting for the inquisition he thought he dodged.

Saito leaned in toward his ear, but what was anticipated never came. "Car seven, last row." And with that, Sano was released.

"…They assign seats?" he asked, admittedly surprised and finally turning all the way to Saito. "I didn't know that."

"No. I just prefer to sit there when possible. It's much quieter since everyone tends to jam themselves into the middle and front like a bunch of morons."

"Ah…"

"Anyway." Saito raised a palm in suggestion that they should start heading down the platform.

Harrying about giving too much away of his mental state had been the effective distraction Sano sought earlier, as it relocated his tension over this trip to the background. However, while he lumbered toward their car with Saito in tow, the unease crept back to front and center. He paused before boarding, stalling to glance around and confirm the number.

"This one," Saito verified. And with that, Sano tipped his head forward and stepped on the train.

As Saito had indicated, the patrons were sparsely seated and relief washed over Sano to find no one occupying the space opposite them. He hated being watched in casual settings when his guard wasn't up, and having someone unfamiliar facing them in such a manner would've been cumbersome—especially now. The less people studying him while he tried to conceal his apprehension, the better.

After tossing their belongings on the cargo shelf, Sano dropped to the bench like dead weight and slid all the way to the window. He closed his eyes, assuring himself the commute would only be forty minutes long and that he could feign fatigue for that amount of time. Saito would spend the entire trip perusing the tedious document he'd brought along anyway, so Sano presumed his inelegant mindset would go unnoticed rather easily.

With a deep breath, he removed his gloves and stuffed them into the pockets of his coat. Attempting to assume a natural posture, he crossed and then uncrossed his arms, next slouched and immediately straightened his back again. His foot began tapping.

He was aware that Saito took his place beside him as their arms touched, but couldn't acknowledge that fact in his current condition…so Sano just let the universe unfold as it would. A pleasant voice chimed out from the front of the car to make necessary announcements, followed by the screeching of metal that prompted a shudder to surf the length of his spine. Then, with a sharp jerk forward, the train began to move.

Sano's muscles were tight as their momentum began a steady climb. His eyes remained closed and his tongue poked out to wet dry lips, the tips of his fingers pushing hard against the wooden seat and flexing back and forth. He supposed he could have remained in this silent torture for the duration of the ride—if it weren't for the palm that appeared on his knee, pressing down and preventing his foot from continuing its incessant tapping.

His lashes parted and Sano focused on Saito's firm grip on his leg. Staring at it blankly for a moment, the realization hit him like a fist between the eyes: ' _hand plus leg equals…holy shit we're in public right now, what the fuck is he doing!_ '

Sano almost flung himself entirely off the bench as he jolted upward, panicked that someone was sitting nearby to witness the gesture. As luck had it, the space across the aisle was empty. However, Saito found opportunity in the flailing and used his other hand to catch Sano's chin, steadying him so that at last, they were face to face.

Sano's right arm flung across his chest and his digits clamped about Saito's wrist. Beneath his breath, he demanded, "What the fuck are you—"

"You could have stayed home." Saito's voice was cool and quiet…and nothing like Sano had expected. Likewise, he envisioned finding something familiar in those honeyed eyes—a deep, sultry yearning he'd been delighted to receive in the past—but they instead appeared unaffected, if not softened in the slightest. "If you didn't feel like going, that is."

 _Oh_ … Sano blinked and the tension in his loins eased when he realized it wasn't the advance he'd assumed—not that he would have been opposed to some clandestine action in public if his anxiety level wasn't through the roof. But alas, off the scale it was and because of it, he was clearly on edge and oversensitive to everything. An exhale left him when Saito's hands retreated.

"That's—" Sano began, his fingertips slipping from Saito's wrist as it withdrew. "That's not it. I did. I mean, I do. I'm glad I'm going with you." He licked his lips again and gazed down to his lap. "It's just…early, you know. That's all."

"Ah, of course," Saito replied, his tone resuming its conventional cavalier quality. "You're not used to being awake at this hour…being jobless and lazy _and_ having a habit of sleeping until noon. No wonder."

The arrogance in that statement was like lighting a stick of dynamite in Sano's core and his annoyance surged so fast that he felt blazing heat skid across his face from ear to ear. Even if there _was_ some truth to those words, he felt the need to argue them, not just for the way they were presented, but out of principle.

He'd woken up without complaint at an ungodly hour to spend this time together, and could have bailed upon realizing they'd be taking the train. But he hadn't. And in fact, Sano would go so far to repeat these taxing trials every day if it meant making more memories to share.

Because out of everything he felt on the kaleidoscope of feelings for Saito—annoyance, inspiration, competition, contentment, rage, companionship—affection was the one that was always constant. And for that alone, the trouble was worth it.

There was a vague awareness that the offensive remark carried an echo of the playful prodding which often thrived between them, but Sano was in no mood to be mocked, even if it was unintentional.

Scorned, his face snapped back to Saito flipping through the report on his lap. However, before he could offer the rebuttal that begged to leave his tongue, Sano felt a hand fall atop his own, still braced between them on the bench.

Without looking over, the right corner of Saito's mouth twitched. "Calm down." Longer, more slender fingers filled the spaces between Sano's as Saito at last found the place in the document he'd been searching for.

Sano's lips parted but the words died right in his throat. His stomach dropped, with irritation morphing into dread as he quickly turned toward the window. _Calm down_? …Did Saito… _know_ what he was going through? Or had he said that to quell the predictable angry response Sano was about to smack him with? His eyes flicked back and forth as he processed these possibilities. …Which one was it?

Of course, given the nature of his job, he was more intuitive than the average person…and that's when Sano stopped breathing and his lashes parted a little wider. Saito likely _had_ seen right through it all—the nervousness and mortification, the desire to tiptoe around both. It would explain why he'd offered reassurance without going too far: taking brief hold of Sano's arm on the platform, all the light gibing, the furtive entwining of their fingers now…

Sano focused on the sensation of the hand clasped over his and suddenly was overcome by feeling naked and immensely ridiculous. It was all the proof he needed that Saito had, without doubt, become privy to his inner toiling, and since he knew himself much too well, Sano realized the day had been ruined beyond repair. Their interactions from here would require him to play mental chess as he figured out how to act normally; a game he, in particular, was awful at. And the longer he played, the more awkward things would become.

But perhaps what was worst of all was that Sano felt exactly as he had with Kaoru and Yahiko during their first excursion—silly, pathetic, immature…only these emotions were much stronger this time. He worried little about what his friends thought of him, simply because their opinions mattered only when he wanted them to matter.

There was a big difference in the company between back then and the present, however, and Sano would be damned if he'd roll over and accept this fate without trying to salvage at least _some_ of his pride. Swallowing, he returned his gaze to the pleasing lines of Saito's profile and in vain, he insisted (albeit in a smaller voice), "I'm fine."

"Good." The unexpected indifference in Saito's tone was mildly alarming, as he spoke like nothing was out of the ordinary. Without bothering to shift focus from the report, he moved it a touch in Sano's direction. "Because I want you to read this and let me know your thoughts on it."

"…What?" Sano blinked. After drowning himself in silent resentment and becoming convinced that he'd royally fucked up, the abrupt change in subject was confusing. "Me?"

Saito's eyes fell half-lidded for a moment and his face tilted to the side in sarcasm. "No, the invisible person sitting next to you." He instantly switched back to business mode. "This case involves some lowlifes who enjoy hanging out where you do, so I want your opinion."

Sano's brow twitched and he sat up taller. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?!"

"It means," Saito started and then turned to him, "you can tell me if this is an accurate description of these people and the environment, since you're so familiar with it." Quiet persisted between them for a moment as they stared at each other, and Sano began puzzling over if Saito had actually figured him out at all.

"…Unless, of course, you're not interested in helping." Pulling his attention to the open page again, Saito tossed his head back to adjust the position of his bangs. "I usually have Sawagejo verify these things anyway, so I'll just have him do it. Never mind."

 _Broom-head?!_ Well, that changed everything!

"What? No, wait!" Sano's fingers tightened on Saito's and he leaned closer. "I'll help. Cho doesn't know shit and you can't trust what he says anyway." He raised his chin to find an expression of amusement aimed at him. "Really. If you think the places I spend _my_ time are bad, you should see where _he_ goes."

"Oh? I wasn't aware there was that much of a difference between you both."

Sano scowled and his tone flat-lined. "You have _got_ to be fucking kidding me." His lips pursed. "I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that...unless there's something you're trying to tell me here..."

Saito huffed. "Not a chance in hell, aho."

"Good. So, like I was saying, I can do anything better than he can. Especially this. Now, let's see…" Sano pressed his cheek to Saito's shoulder for a better view and his eyes danced over the page, murmuring as he read. "The bartender's name is Shunichi and he's covered in ink…he never smiles and he's rude to patrons…well, that's all true, for sure. Fuck that guy. Someday, I'm gonna shove my foot up his ass."

The threat was met with a scoff. "You are vile."

"Not _literally_ , you crazy fuck!"

A chuckle emanated from deep within Saito's chest and he stuck a cigarette in his mouth.

After that, the sounds and movements of the train faded into the background as Sano continued his task—though he did pause for a moment. He faked reading partway to revisit conclusions drawn from his earlier catastrophizing.

Maybe he'd been wrong about there being some deeper meaning to the whole thing their hands. …Maybe Saito just felt like holding his, instead of taking it out of pity. It was said that a pair often became fonder while traveling together, and if Sano were honest, he imagined Saito enjoyed the closeness as much as he did.

Feeling much better with that reasoning than the former, Sano resumed giving his colorful assessment of the report. The tension he'd experienced earlier melted away while keeping himself busy like this; he hardly batted an eye when Saito moved their hands further back between them so they wouldn't be noticed, before giving the tickets to the conductor.

Time passed from there in such a flash that when Sano glanced out the window as their momentum began to slow, he was taken aback that they were already pulling into Yokohama Station.

"…We're here _already_?" he stammered.

"Unless everyone is hallucinating, I'd say so," Saito replied, pushing Sano off and earning himself a square punch to the arm.

"Never mind about that hallucination shit." Sano returned to the view, taking it in and trying to spot any glaring differences since his last visit.

But deep down, he used this quiet moment to revel in the satisfaction and utter _relief_ brimming within him. Somehow, he'd not only made it through the ride in one piece—both physically and mentally—but actually enjoyed it. In addition, there was no indication that any awkwardness existed between Saito and him, which was cause for elation in itself. He'd done far better than just manage this time; it was a true victory.

Glancing back to Saito, Sano found he also harbored a strange sense of regret that their commute hadn't been longer. He was only halfway done with his commentary and had no particular desire to feel Saito's digits unwinding from his; unfortunately, though, the train crawled to a stop then and at last, their hands were forced to part. The emptiness left was conspicuous and Sano's fingers curled in, trying but failing to fill in for Saito's touch.

They'd just have to make up for it later when they were at the inn, alone and warm with no distractions, Sano decided.

"You're smiling again, Sagara."

"…Just happy to be here," he replied with a laugh. Reaching up to his scarf, Sano adjusted it and then slipped his gloves back on.

Their belongings were tossed over his shoulder and Sano followed Saito down the aisle and off the train. The same chill greeted them here in Yokohama, though it wasn't as uncomfortable as when they were in Tokyo. In fact, Sano found himself feeling exceptionally light now. Cold air filled his lungs as he extended the arm not burdened by their possessions upward in a long stretch.

Saito procured another smoke and placed it between his lips, then began fishing for his matches. "It appears you're no longer tired."

"Nope! Wide awake." A broad smile pulled into Sano's cheeks. "What's for breakfast?"

Dark brows twitched. "Is that _all_ you think about?"

With his lashes falling, Sano lifted his chin regally, placed a hand on his hip, and announced, "And what if it is?" He remained just like this, awaiting an answer.

Saito inhaled on his cigarette, then raised the report and gently swatted Sano's head once more. "Aho."

Gritting his teeth and wincing, Sano grabbed the place he'd been thwacked and then raised that fist into the air. " _Again_?!"

And that was the start of their time spent in Yokohama: every bit as enjoyable and pleasingly frustrating and _normal_ as it was back home. Closing his eyes for a beat, Sano stuffed his hands into his pockets and trailed Saito toward the soba place he said he knew. While he had to keep appearances and look annoyed (for the time being, anyway), he shrugged to push the scarf up further so his mouth would be hidden. Then, he grinned.

Sano knew it was impossible to avoid the apprehension from earlier, but in hindsight and with the way he felt now, his concerns seemed so unjustified and empty. Everything was going to be perfect, after all. At that, he smiled again, openly this time.

And perfect it was.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 _Three Days Later_

Saito kept walking.

"Hey!" Sano's hand remained pointing behind him and toward the platform as he dragged his feet, falling behind. "We're not taking the train back?"

"Carriage."

The reply was issued without Saito turning around and Sano stumbled forward, picking up the pace and stalking over quickly to reach his side. "Carriage? I thought you had round trip tickets."

"I gave them to someone working in this district yesterday," Saito replied. "He was going to Tokyo with a colleague and neither had ever traveled by train before, so…"

"Oh…" Sano glanced down. Despite his last experience ending up pleasant and uneventful, he still had his reservations about traveling via railroad. And while he was, admittedly, happy they'd be avoiding it, something about this change of plan seemed strange to him. "…I see."

"In any case," Saito continued and they both looked over their shoulders at each other simultaneously. "It's better this way, isn't it?"

"What, taking a carriage?" Sano raised a hand to the back of his head and rubbed. "Yeah, I'd say…I mean, don't get me wrong or anything." A nervous laugh. "The train is fine!"

Saito nodded once and then returned his attention forward.

"Anyway, I can finish going over that section you needed me for during the ride." Sano's brows pulled inward then, as it dawned on him that Saito was no longer carrying the report. "Hey—"

A short cry interrupted what he was about to say and they both whirled to the source. An elderly man had dropped a shallow basket of apples, scattering them all over the road.

"Gramps! You all right over there?" Sano called out. The question he originally intended to ask was lost as he and Saito went about picking up the fruit, while reassuring the old man that his profuse apologies were unnecessary.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

No questionable advances of the new world…no cringe-inducing shrill of metal grating against metal…no crowd creating cacophony around them and stealing their privacy; just the galloping of hooves and Sano nestled beside Saito. And while the curtains hadn't yet been drawn and it wasn't Cho who was driving, Sano found no complaint with this current arrangement.

The seat was just big enough to accommodate the two of them with their arms and legs flush up against each other—which would've made for an undesirable scene if Sano had been traveling with anyone else. From this proximity, the smell of fresh tobacco was strong but he could detect more than that; Saito's natural scent was faint but so pleasing to him. It had Sano recalling how he enjoyed just breathing when they were lying together on the futons, in a jumble of entwined limbs and bodies and souls.

The memory made him wish for Saito's taste in his mouth again…but Sano felt he had to earn that reward, just this once. And what better way than to complete the task he'd started?

"So!" He slapped his hands on his thighs. "Where's this report, huh?" There was a nod to the sack resting across from them. "In there?"

Saito had his box of cigarettes out and gave it a firm tap against his palm. One stick slid forward and he pulled it from the package with his lips. "I left it with the chief." A match was struck.

Sano's gaze wandered downward. "Wasn't I supposed to—?"

"You did your part," Saito breathed without turning to him.

"But it wasn't done." Sano paused and when he recalled how official those pages appeared, the pieces all fell together immediately. "Wait…what you were having me do that day…it was already finished." He glanced up again. "Wasn't it? You weren't planning to revise anything. So why the fuck—?"

"I would have made revisions if they were necessary, but if you'll recall, you didn't find argument with any of the details." Saito pulled the cigarette from his mouth for a moment. "As for why, there's nothing wrong with getting a second opinion, is there? Anyway, I wasn't aware you were so interested in helping the police."

"I thought I was helping _you_ ," Sano muttered.

"Ah." Indifference. "You did."

The silence which fell between them was deafening as Sano began examining this situation over again in his mind while staring at his knuckles. All of the unease he'd experienced on the train crept up his throat until it hit him again in full force, and things instantly felt clumsy once more upon reaching a familiar conclusion. His digits started flexing into the fabric of his trousers.

Saito _had_ picked up on his anxiety, after all; there was no other explanation for asking for help when it wasn't needed, unless an ulterior motive was in play. And what else could it possibly be, if those little nudges and prods and motions hadn't been made out of comfort—or worse, sympathy. Saito had even found a way to effectively distract Sano and make the trip pass in a flash by having him work on something disguised as a favor.

And now, he'd given away their tickets, and here they were in a carriage, all because Sano really was as ludicrous as his friends deemed him during that first trip.

He was back at square one all over again, with another cocktail of negativity flooding him while he wondered if and how he could ever recover from this unscathed. Sagara, _former Sekihoutai and fighter for hire, strongest contender with fists, one who mastered the futae no kiwami in a week, undefeated when it mattered, down but never out_ , Sanosuke had been bested by trip anxiety. And Saito had been around to witness it all. It was an absolute fucking nightmare.

Once again, the same hand suddenly appeared atop Sano's and he held his breath as Saito's fingers curled inward. He braced himself, not returning the gesture.

"Truth be told," Saito began, his tone still aloof, "a carriage isn't the most comfortable environment to read in anyway. And as for the train, I don't prefer that method of transportation." Sano raised his face to find him peering out the nearest window. "Too many people, too much power in the hands of others, not enough control in my own." Finally, Saito turned to him. "Right?"

"Wow, you know what, that's pretty fucked up," Sano snapped, throwing his elbow back to pull his hand away but there wasn't enough room and Saito's grasp was strong enough to keep their fingers locked together. "Honestly, if you knew, how can you fucking mock me like that?"

"Cht." Saito inhaled on his cigarette and let his head fall back. With his gaze wandering to the ceiling, he droned, "How can you _possibly_ think I'm mocking you now?"

"Because you were totally fucking fine on the way there."

A scoff. "You think so?"

"You—" Sano came to an abrupt stop. He fell silent and his shoulders dropped. Several seconds later, his lips parted and closed, then parted again. "…Are you being serious right now? You really don't like the train?"

"I really don't like the train," Saito repeated in verbatim and let his face fall to the side. Their eyes met. "I'm fine taking it when necessary, but I prefer traveling by carriage. You have more control this way…can jump out if needed, drive the horses yourself if needed…not wind up stranded in the middle of nowhere with no options if something goes wrong…"

Sano stared at him in disbelief for several moments before he exhaled, turned forward, and closed his eyes.

"You disagree."

"Saito." Sano's lashes parted and his lips twitched as he finally returned the squeeze on the hand holding his. "I was _so_ fucking uncomfortable on the train because of every reason you just gave." He huffed. "I can't believe…"

"I suspected it was something similar, but didn't want to pry and risk making anything worse. No one ever wants to be called out on their insecurities." Saito took a draw on his cigarette and breathed out. "Though, I wish you would've just said so from the start. There were no long-distance carriage services available when we were leaving, but we could have waited awhile to see if one showed up."

"I didn't _say_ anything because I was sure you'd think I'm pathetic," Sano blurted out and glanced over at him.

"What makes you believe I don't?"

"Fuck you!" He tried to pull away again.

A large smirk accompanied Saito's laugh. "Any time, aho. The more important question here is what makes you believe I do?" His fingers flexed between Sano's for good measure. "I don't. And if I actually did, it wouldn't be inspired by whatever misgivings you may have, that's for sure. We both survived unthinkable things."

With his lips curled inward, Sano glared at him, but his features gradually relaxed as Saito continued speaking. That last line struck a chord. "I know we did. That's exactly why it feels so ridiculous to be concerned over something that probably wouldn't harm me."

"Distress is distress, whether it makes sense or not. It's not something rationalized or so easily controlled," Saito replied over an exhale. "But you're only hurting yourself unnecessarily by acting like it's not there. I understand better than anyone that admitting it is entirely a matter of trust, among other things." He took a final draw. "Anyway, if you're worried about what I think, you really shouldn't be." Saito's eyes focused on the remaining nub of the cigarette. "…Today or in the future, that is."

There was an unspoken offer hidden somewhere in all those words, but Sano hadn't missed it; it was a promise to help when needed and without judgement, but more than that, there was an indication of something serious—a hint at commitment in the long-term to justify them being open with each other. And all that talk of trust came after an admission of not being fond of the train, a fact Sano was damn sure Saito had never told anyone else. He swallowed, wariness in his scrutinizing gaze. "Is that something you really mean, or are you just talking some bullshit because we're living together right now?"

Saito turned to him. "Do you see me holding anyone else's hand?"

It was a valid point. Living fast and in-the-moment, Sano hadn't given much thought to what the future held. But now a door had somehow opened, and the other side contained a picture and a promise—a life of mutual respect and affection, one he never thought he could ever have. And yet, there it was before him, like a mirage in a desert. But if there was even a _chance_ it were real…

Without hesitation, Sano took his first step over the threshold.

"…All right. I will," he agreed. "But only if you promise to do the same. It can't be just me if we're in this together. And…and no more of that social engineering shit, okay? Even if it's with good intentions. That's something we're both guilty of."

Sano thought those terms were decent enough. Saito blinked, studying him for a moment; it appeared he was about to say something, but then just dropped his chin with a single nod.

In a flash, there was suddenly a whole lot that needed serious discussion, but each fell into congenial silence for the time being. It wasn't long before Sano spoke up again, though. "By the way…uh." A pause. "Thanks for looking out for us both during this trip. ...I guess I should've been more attentive."

The atmosphere between them had softened by this point and Sano speaking words of gratitude like that highlighted the shift even further. It was _almost_ uncomfortable and their relationship erred on a razor's edge of feeling like it had changed too drastically in the span of just minutes—which was weird and foreign in itself, and Sano started regretting that he'd talked in such a manner. It was way too early to start making adjustments to typical behavior.

"Well, what can I say? _One_ of us needs to be useful." Saito pushed himself forward, cracked the door open, and flicked his cigarette out.

Sano exhaled in relief at the return of normalcy. Leave it to Saito to save the day. They'd have to take it slower, let it develop naturally; as the saying went, good things came to those who were patient, and this was something Sano was more than willing to wait for.

When Saito settled back down, he fell under the scrutiny of half-lidded eyes. "So. You're implying I'm useless," Sano declared in monotone.

With a heavy sigh, Saito reached into his jacket pocket again for another cigarette. "You take everything too literally."

This time, it was Sano's hand to claim Saito's and he prevented it from pulling out another smoke. "Draw those curtains, old man," he commanded in a threatening voice, "and I'll make sure you never say that again—figuratively or not."

Saito cocked his head in interest. And soon after the veils fell, the inside of the carriage became much warmer.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Traveling was fun, but no place was ever as good as home—especially after a trip that brought two people closer together. And for the pair in this particular house, the excursion to and from Yokohama had done just that; Sano returned not only more connected to Saito than ever, but more in tune with his own self.

It wasn't that he'd been afraid of talking about sensitive subjects before, but he _had_ purposely avoided them; since his childhood, Sano had always been inclined to not present in a way that he believed would make him unappealing to others. Now, however, he had a different sentiment toward that whole idea.

It was a kind of feeling that made him believe he could look any way and say anything that was natural to his character, and that Saito would still treasure and want him regardless. …Not that he would soften up his backbone and openly display his weak points at any given time; he was still the toughest motherfucker in Japan. But in the event he slipped, it was comforting to know a pair of arms would be there to catch him without judgement or rejection.

For once, Sano's agitation (irrational as it might've been) was taken seriously and not mocked, and the person who accepted it without criticism had been the one who mattered most. That spoke volumes to Sano about his worth, and it made him want to try even harder to prove he valued Saito just as much. With that and over time, their relationship would blossom and consummate to achieve that picture perfect life he'd caught a glimpse of earlier.

Upon returning, they were tethered a little more than usual and blamed it on the cold, but each knew better than that.

The sitting room leading to the backyard offered the best protection from winter elements with heavy drapes and a small irori hearth at the center of the tatami, so this had been where they chose to settle and warm up. Sano had stretched out on his back, with a heavy blanket over him and his head supported by Saito's lap. Said company was poised perpendicular to him and remained busy with reviewing yet another bulky report.

"Hey." Raising a hand, Sano flicked the bottom page, prompting Saito to move his hand aside so they could look at each other. Squinting just a touch, Sano asked, "I forgot to ask…do you really let broom-head review things like that?"

"Of course."

"Fuck, really? I didn't think you were serious."

"He works under me and that's one of his roles." Saito nonchalantly moved the report back over Sano's face.

After a few moments, Sano hit the back of the last page with his fingertip again. "…Does he do a good job?"

"Usually."

"Psht. I could do it better, for sure."

"Oh?" The stack of bound paper dropped to the tatami at Saito's side with a thump. "You said so about that other report first and now this. Are you indicating you're interested in working for the police?"

"What?!" Sano went to sit up but a palm placed on his chest kept him where he was. "I'm not _indicating_ anything like that—or even anything at all! Don't go getting any wild ideas now. You won't catch _me_ in some lame blue hat."

"Aho."

Smiling tenderly as he watched Saito light up, Sano waited for him to put the match out and then reached for that hand. He pulled it to him and held it. "So, when's our next trip?"

"Unknown at the moment," Saito replied, interlacing his fingers with Sano's. "But you've made a convincing argument to travel by carriage every time."

"Did I?" Sano's expression remained quiet before turning mischievous. He touched the side of Saito's face and coaxed him downward as he rose to meet him halfway. When they were close enough to breathe the same breath, Sano quietly said, "I don't know, I think I can present that argument even better here. Lemme retry?"

Though it was only Saito's mouth which twitched in response and he looked no different physically than any time before, Sano noticed a glaring change.

At that, he paused and his smirk faded when it slowly dawned on him. There was something deeper in Saito's eyes now…something softer and more expressive, something Sano perceived as a mirror of his own regard. He'd seen this so many times before, but with no frame of reference to understand the meaning behind it, it'd been lost on him...until now. And that was when the breath was stolen from Sano's lungs and he realized Saito had already taken that first step over the threshold long before he had.

The portrait so complete he'd glimpsed on the other side felt almost too good to be true: acceptance and respect, honesty and trust, reliability in the days to come and never having to be alone again. But here, just like this, Sano recognized it was not only real and actually attainable, but something they already possessed. They didn't need to try any harder than usual or deviate from how they normally acted...these things were all part of the whole package of what made them a flawless team. All he'd had to do was see it and think in the long run. For how long this had been under his nose and awaiting discovery, Sano couldn't be sure, but he knew that for whatever that length of time was, Saito was waiting for him to arrive on his own terms.

Stroking Saito's cheek with his thumb and curling his other fingertips through the short hair covering the back of his neck, Sano kept still to savor this perfect moment so that he would never forget it. Forever had never looked so good before. His eyes softened.

"Ah," Saito whispered. "...There it is."

Sano finally met him properly then, with the space separating their lips becoming none—just one kiss out of countless others before. However, this one felt new and deeper, and carried with it as many promises as there were stars in the night sky. And as they both stood hand-in-hand with a glittering plane of eternity stretching out beneath their feet, that kiss had marked the first of many, many wonderful things.

But it was far from the last.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The next time Sano found himself standing on that same platform where it all began was a stark contrast from the first. Spring warmth enveloped the earth, with pink petals littering the ground and the grass reclaiming a healthy verdant shade. He still had his reservations with this form of transportation (and remained certain he always would), but it'd been his own suggestion to use it when the long-distance carriages weren't available again.

There was no pacing or inward flailing now as Sano stood with his arm covertly pressed against Saito's, and it wasn't long before the train pulled in. Without a word, they both made their way to the last row of car seven.

Sano tossed their mutual belongings on the cargo rack and dropped to the bench, then slid all the way to the window. When Saito took his place beside him, their arms touched, and Sano finally looked up with a small smile. He pulled Saito's nearest gloved hand away from the thick document it held and guided it between where they sat.

For the next forty minutes, Sano rested his eyes while Saito perused his boring report, and their fingers remained entwined until they reached Yokohama.

* * *

Thank you so much for reading!

Honestly, this whole idea started out with the desire to write about Saito holding Sano's hand on the train. How it evolved into all of this, I don't know but here we are today. lol The train ep kinda annoyed me (don't get me wrong, it was ridiculous and hilarious and I still enjoy it) because I feel like it wasn't superstition that had Sano so uneasy, but legitimate trip anxiety. So, I just felt like justifying that and having Saito know how to be there for him in a covert way.

What total and complete, frickin' domestic fluff nonsense. idk guys, all I can say about this is catch me with them LGBT+ domestic/healthy established relationship/mutual respect stories. 3333 I like to imagine that this is what their relationship might blossom into.

Anyways, many thanks again for reading~! :D


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